Confederate Son
by aloquaciousgirl
Summary: Jasper was his father’s son, he was a soldier bourn. Pre-series.


_Title: __**Confederate Son**_

_Rating: PG-13/K+_

_Pairing/Character(s): Jasper Whitlock (Hale)_

_Summary: Jasper was his father's son, he was a soldier bourn. _

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns everything Twilight, not me. I'm just grateful she allows us to play with her well crafted characters. _

_Notes: Done for mission_insane's autobiography prompt series. This is my first stab at the bio prompts and I am curious to know what ones people are most interested in reading if you enjoyed this. _

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My father was a General before the confederacy broke away from the Union. He always believed in the mission of what we were trying to do. He wanted to save the South from the degradation of the liberal Union and legions of men looked up to him for that.

I looked up to him. I saw the passion that he had, how he inspired all his men, and the respect that they had for him. Any of his soldiers would have died for him--for the sake of his mission. They would raise the South from the depths of despair that we were suffering from, he had it bored into all their minds, we would not fail: The South would rise again.

I was seventeen years old and eager to join the cause. My mother tried desperately to convince me otherwise, to stay home and finish school. She had seen too many boys leave home to fight for their homes and families and not come back, she had comforted too many women who had to cry over their sons corpses, who prayed to god that one day they would have a body to cry over…she didn't want that to be me. My father disagreed with her, he decided that it would be my choice to join, or not join...when I turned seventeen.

I know that it was what he wanted for me. It was no secret, and I was willing and happy to make my father proud. I wanted to do my part like the other's, I wanted to stop being a boy, and have the others look up to me as a man--like my father.

I knew boys who didn't want to go, ones who swore that they wouldn't leave. War wasn't for them, others were hungry for it…they were excited to live a warrior's life. I fell into neither category, if being a general's son had taught me anything it was that warmongering led to nothing, that living a warrior's life also brought you a warrior's death.

I knew my duty to my family, and my country however. I would be a model soldier, and like my father before me, I would rise quickly in the ranks, I'd make my family proud. That was what was important after all, I was my parents' only son, and thus I had the duty to carry all their hopes for me.

My closest friend, James did not have any desire to join the Army, he didn't believe in the confederacy. If my father had known, he would have forbade such a friendship, fearing the sort of effect that could have on his career to be associated with someone with such thoughts. Not long before I enlisted however, James and his family escaped to the north. I never heard from him again. My second closest friend Braxton was also a disappointment in that regard. His father was a Captain, and so he had the same responsibility I did--but I think there were exceptions in this case because he was not his father's only son, nor his oldest one. He didn't feel the pressure that I did to do the job. Braxton was also involved with a girl in our town, and so he confided to me that-like James--he and she were going to escape to the North, so that he wouldn't have to serve. I was ashamed and disappointed in him. I thought that I would be able to depend on having my friend serve at my side, and I told him as much. I reminded him of our lineage, and our duties to our families. Of the honor that we had to live up to…didn't he want to be hailed a hero? Didn't he want to bring his family the honor they were accustomed to, instead of the dishonor of a son who had dodged his responsibilities and ran off to side with the Yankees?

"You want this Jasper?" Braxton asked me, "You want to follow in your father's footsteps, become a warrior for The Confederacy."

The way he looked at me reminded me of our childhood where we had discussed our plans for the future. I was going to travel the world--we all were. He, James, and I were going to see the world outside of Texas. We would travel America, and see Europe. I had even told him, I hoped to go to University and I would become a lawyer, one day venturing into the world of politics. They agreed that such a career would suit me well.

When the war hit us though, all of that was irrelevant, maybe before then it was too. I had been foolish to think that I could find myself in any other path but this one. Honestly, I didn't mind terribly. I was ready to be a warrior, a champion for the South. I was eager to be the son my parents wanted.

"Don't you? I don't want to bring shame to my parents, only honor." I reminded him. "This was always our life Braxton, We're military sons. We have a responsibility to fulfill."

"Sarah doesn't want me to leave." Braxton replied, "Neither does my mother. I've promised them that I won't enlist."

"So you're resigned to leave?" I asked him, determined to save himself from himself, and from Sarah. She was selfish to keep him from his duty. "Braxton, you're my best friend. I want you by my side. This has always been the life we were meant for."

I did my very best to convince him, in my minds eye, I was saving him from disgrace. "They'll forgive you, they will see that you are a man when you do your duty, when you return an officer of the Confederacy."

Braxton sighed, "My father would never forgive me, Jasper."

"Honor him." I pressed, "We owe our service, Braxton. We must make our families proud."

I was a walking talking advertisement for the model confederate solider.

Braxton nodded his head. "You're right, Jasper. As always." He half smiled. "Brothers in arms?"

"Always." I nodded my head curtly, relieved that he had turned so easily.

We enlisted together, and we were placed in the Shenandoah Valley. I had heard rumors that we were lucky to have been moved farther north, out of Texas where they didn't always have the proper provisions for our troops. We were well cared for though, and lucky enough to have proper medical care. Braxton and I fought side by side as we had promised, and when I was moved up through ranks, I was careful to keep him by my side.

Within the first year I was instated as a first lieutenant and became the leader of the very brigade that protected my home. I used my rank to persuade my superiors to allow me to bring my friend along. He was eager to return home and see his fiancée. It wasn't something I understood personally, but I went along with it. I just wanted to have him with me.

On November 18, 1861, Braxton died, after one of the bloodiest battles we had ever fought. We were protecting the borders of our home, and the Union fire beat us down heavily. I had lost him in the skirmish of battle--many men lost their lives that day--only to find him in the field, clutching his musket with a fierce look in his eyes as I came over to him.

"Better to die for our honor, than to live as cowards?" He choked out.

The sight of him congealing in his own blood, it gurgling in his throat was an image that has never left my mind.

"T-Tell my father…"

We didn't have enough medics in the field, but that didn't matter. I had seen enough wounds to know that it was over for my friend. Blood pooled out of his chest, covering him in crimson waves. It disgusted me, the sheer site of it, made me want to vomit. I pulled his hand into mine tightly, trying to ignore the blood.

"You're going to be okay," I promised him. My father had told me from the day I became an officer that I had such a duty. I was the keeper of my men.

"I'm a man now," He coughed. "Tell my father, I did the job. I never…surrendered."

I nodded my head, trying to think of something to say to him. Something to make it better. To not apologize for killing him. I never should have persuaded him to come. We were two different men, he did not want a warrior's life--or death. But I had given it to him.

"I'm sorry." I told him.

"We-"

I never found out what '_we' _did, I'm not sure what it was that we did. I wanted him to accuse me of killing him, I had after all. I dragged him into, for all intents and purposes, _my _battle. He died for the honor and respect that I was so eager to search out--to live for and die for.

I swore as he took his last breath it would never happen again. I would be a warrior, but I would never drag another life into my battles. I had persuaded my friend to die for me, but that would be the last time.


End file.
